


Two

by Arwen_Evenstar



Series: The paths we choose [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-17
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2019-04-01 12:43:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13998585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arwen_Evenstar/pseuds/Arwen_Evenstar
Summary: So, here we are again for the second challenge of our Reylo FanFic Rec drabbling challenge!I skipped one of the gifs due to some work overtime, but I decided to bring both of the gifs together, with more emphasis on the last one (week 5).Hope you enjoy, comments welcome.P.S. - Week 4 gif was  a Reylo gif from Pixelrey. The famous shirtless scene of Kylo. Follow her on Tumblr athttp://pixelrey.tumblr.com.P.S.S. - Week 5 picture was an AU from Elithien. Kylo and Rey on the beach! You can find her on Tumblr: http://elithien.tumblr.com





	Two

**Author's Note:**

> So, here we are again for the second challenge of our Reylo FanFic Rec drabbling challenge!  
> I skipped one of the gifs due to some work overtime, but I decided to bring both of the gifs together, with more emphasis on the last one (week 5).  
> Hope you enjoy, comments welcome.  
> P.S. - Week 4 gif was a Reylo gif from Pixelrey. The famous shirtless scene of Kylo. Follow her on Tumblr athttp://pixelrey.tumblr.com.  
> P.S.S. - Week 5 picture was an AU from Elithien. Kylo and Rey on the beach! You can find her on Tumblr: http://elithien.tumblr.com

Anger.

He knew it well enough.

It was like a wave that invaded his body, radiating from his chest. It came quickly, with such an intense brutality and violence that he hunched his back, like his body instinctively tried to contain it. The Force. The Darkness. Like an animal, ready to pounce.

Hux had failed again. The intelligence was there, the data was obvious. He had spies everywhere, minions at hand – or so he claimed. But again he had arrived too late, to empty boxes, smashed holos and no girl. No Rey.

_Rey._

The name itself sending wave after wave of intense pain radiating to the tip of his fingers. “Enough” he snarled. After seeing her so clearly in the throne room, after how she smiled - it had been a moment, lost in an instant. Not enough for him to be sure that she was smiling…at him. That question burned in his mind – how come the Force brought her so vividly, just weeks after their last meeting, and never came back? How to be sure that she had, perhaps, reconsidered his offer? Maybe even forgiven him?

“You. Are. A. Monster”, he repeated.

Again the anger: he felt his fists clench and, even before he realized it, he punched the wall, shaking in fury. He walked towards the training facilities, leaving havoc in its wake – everyone in its path was rammed to the wall, gasping for air, until he cleared the corridor. When he entered the room and the door closed shut behind him, he began hyperventilating. _It’s too much. Too much_!. It felt like all the weight of the damned souls that he had destroyed came back to haunt him, to claw him leaving his skin raw. And her eyes were the worst of all. How it burned, the way she looked at him in Crait – no hate, no compassion.

He grabbed the collar of his shirt and paced frantically in the room. “Too much!” he yelled, as he ripped way his vest, his shirt, until he had nothing but his pants. It worked, he felt slightly lighter, less hot, less constricted by that black force jacket. Slowly, he walked towards the tatami and kneeled, placing his light saber at his side on the floor. He breathed, focusing the Force, searching for equilibrium in its Darkest pools – tuning the anger, shaping it, converting it to strength rather than reckless mayhem.

As he closed his eyes, a flash, a spark of white, of blue, so strong he immediately grabbed his light saber and struck it, pivoting it above his head and striking ahead. Nothing there. His left eye twitched, looking at the empty space beyond the large window of the room. He took the handle of the saber with both hands and assumed the attack position. Knees slightly bent, one foot forward, back straight as a board.

_Focus._  Pause. _Focus._  Pause. _Strike!_

Like this he felt himself again. As the saber hummed and warped, spinning above him and slashing, leaving that metallic scent in the air that reminded him of blood. The blood in which he reveled, the blood in the arena when he trained with his knights, the blood that trickled down his mouth after a blow, the blood that roared in his groin after winning a fight. He was already drenched in sweat, hair plastered against his face, lips swollen and red. He pivoted his torso, bent his knees, bringing the saber from behind and above, grabbing it with both hands just above his head, gaining momentum – all was perfect in that moment, he could feel the control, the Dark side guiding his blade for the final blow…

A flash of white, of heat and light. He felt his legs, his feet in water. The vision caught him just as he was completing the movement and suddenly, the eyes were upon him. Her eyes. _HER_.

Kylo staggered and missed the mark all together, sending his saber to the floor. He turned around as quickly as he could but no one was there. Just him. It took seconds before he remembered to exhale. He brought his palms to his eyes and proceeded to run his hands through his hair.

“Filthy”, he murmured.

With a final look to the empty room he grabbed the saber from the floor and headed to the fresher, discarding his pants along the way leaving him in shorts. As he prepared to enter the shower, he thought of the water raining on him, washing the sweat, the blood, the anger away. He thought of how quiet it was, how all other sounds of the Absolution just faded to give way to the sea.

Kylo opened his eyes to the blue of the ocean and the white of the sand in front of him. _How?_  he thought. His mind was racing, frantic, but his face gave away nothing - like he was supposed to be there. The only evidence of his discomfort being the odd twitch of his mouth, something he always did since childhood. Gradually, his mind went through the data, the numbers, mechanically. _Scarif? Lloh?..._  he mumbled as he turned round and froze.

Staring at him. The eyes. Her eyes. _Her_.

She was in front of him, looking at him, with the same face that had called him… …“Monster”, he whispered. The sheer intensity of her gaze was causing his blood to boil and he felt it, again, its taste in his mouth, the exhilaration of victory, the arousal. He didn’t speak, didn’t move, dreading the moment when he would open his eyes and find himself staring his scar in the mirror of the fresher. After a second that seemed like an hour, he took notice of her, returning the intensity of the gaze and his feelings – molten anger, regret, longing – touching her mind with the tendrils of his Darkness, probing, searching.

She was in her underwear. Her hair was set in her usual fashion. Sweat was pouring down her neck. As he reached for her through the Force he felt…resolve and exhilaration. She reached for the laces behind her back and removed her top, in one fluid motion. She moved as if that piece of cloth was a wisp of smoke, alien to that body and therefore did not belong there. And he felt strangely peaceful, like it was only the natural thing to do even dough he felt the blood rushing to his hears, his heartbeat drowning away the roll of the waves on the beach. She took a step towards him.

_Focus._ Pause. _Focus._

She raised her hands, palms wide. He felt her hesitation for a split second, before she rested them on his chest, over his scars. It was if suddenly he could feel everything: not only his blood, the taste and smell of it, but her blood too and the scent of her sweat, her heartbeat and the heartbeat of the birds flying above, and of the sea creatures lurking in the depths, of the tree in the hills and the insects gnawing its roots. And he felt…he felt…powerful.

He looked down at her, still intense and serious. Her lips parted, and her hands slid upwards, treading his collarbone, resting on the nape of his neck. He felt the Light in her swell with that power, like him and his Darkness. And with it, her resolve. She pulled him towards her suddenly, almost violently, inches away from her face. His hands reached instinctively for the small of her back and pressed her forward, crushing her into his arousal.

“It’s too much” he said, hoarsely.

“Not enough” she replied.

The last thing he knew, and felt, were her fingers raking his hair as her mouth consumed his, and the molten anger in his heart.


End file.
